


Felonious

by grayorca, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Skynet: 900 [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-11-05 17:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17923058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca/pseuds/grayorca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Wings AU. It’s never that easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mini fic, may be only three parts at most.
> 
> Spoilers for _Skynet_. We reverse-engineer our plots as we see fit.

Androids assigned to the DPD didn’t typically make house calls.

But if one wanted to be pedantic, unit #313 248 317 -89 was not assigned to the department itself. He was registered to Detective Gavin Reed.

Registered, as opposed to owned.

Therefore he was obliged to answer when the man saw fit to call him - any time, day or night, rain or shine or state-of-emergency disaster. The lattermost condition was very much in effect today. The wind chill outside the stationhouse’s walls was a beyond-brisk -15°.

Anchored to one of the overhead perches, Noah’s latest independent round of cat’s cradle was interrupted by an urgent chirping in his ear.

_Incoming call: Reed, Gavin_

_Video interface: disabled_

_Accept? Ignore?_

Simultaneously a needlessly-pushy text message accosted his vision.

_Accept, s-o-shit_

Blinking, unphased by the vulgarity and only wondering as to the nature of the reason for the call, Noah answered: “Yes, Detective?”

 _“Aw, fuck, Noah.”_ Immediately, Gavin sounded much different than he normally did - actually distressed over something, not the atypical aloof kind of aggravated, even if he was trying to hide it. _“I need your help, like - right now. It’s Colby.”_

“What about Colby?” Without mincing words, Noah dropped the string, spooling it up into a neat weave to pocket inside his jacket. It wasn’t the noisy calibration quarters of his RK800 predecessors for more than one reason. “Is he hurt?” Anchors disengaged, he crawled up onto the closed landing ledge.

“ _That's the thing, I don't know. I've searched my whole goddamn place at least ten times, and I have no idea where he is.”_ Gavin let out a sigh, but it was closer to a distressed noise than he would never admit to in the future. “ _And it's fucking freezin’ outside, he can't last long in that, I need someone to help me look - please, just get here fast.”_

The ledge’s door retracted up with one keypress. A merciless waft of wintery air gusted inside. Wings cupped against back, Noah crept through, out onto the landing. A frosty Detroit skyline greeted his eyes, with an equally gray, ugly sky stretched above.

By air, Gavin’s apartment was twenty minutes away on a good day.

This afternoon wasn’t looking so pleasant. Noah’s own meager meteorology protocols were already advising him to stay grounded. But Reed wouldn’t have called if he weren’t seriously concerned for his pet’s welfare. And whatever distance could be covered in flight would only take twice as long by taxi.

Again, it wasn’t common of Gavin to call for help of a personal nature. He had precious few people to.

“Keep searching. I’ll be en route.”

“ _Fuck, okay. Thanks, Noah.”_ With nothing else to say, Gavin ended the call, presumably to do exactly what his incoming backup said to.

If only he were so compliant in every other dire situation they found themselves in.

“You’re welcome.” Wings unfurling, Noah stepped up to the edge, tipped forward, and let himself fall.

——-

He had some form of luck, as it turned out. A tailwind out of the west helped him reach the apartment building in an economic twelve minutes, thirty-seven seconds. The old brick structure was easily identifiable compared to its more glitzy counterparts. All the roofs encircled an elevated courtyard, planted with an assortment of elms and oaks. Officially it was known as Warrendale Center.

Unofficially the locals of said block called their collective dwelling the Treehouse.

Gavin Reed just called it home (there was an unspoken rule in his personal bible against insultingly cute nicknames of that sort).

This was Detroit. Not _Mister Rogers Neighborhood_.

Following the publically-accessible layout, he picked a fire escape and landed, making his way through the emergency door into a corridor. The door to Gavin's apartment was already flung open, as if the man couldn't contain whatever nerves and other upset feelings he had in time for Noah to either knock on the door or let himself in.

Whether or not said man was here ransacking his own dwelling, or combing the complex top to bottom and back for a second time, that was the newest mystery to solve.

Poking his head through the door, Noah glanced left to see an open closet, then right to find the door to the tiny bathroom left ajar. A plastic footwear tray lay on the floor below the light switch. Besides two pairs of old running shoes, there were melted chunks of snow in the remaining vacant space.

Gavin was out.

Someone else, however, was not. There was a woman standing slightly off to the side in Gavin's apartment, brows furrowed with concern as she listened to whoever was talking to her from the other side of the cellphone pressed up to her ear, not noticing him yet. “Calm down, all you're doing is making it harder to understand you, okay?”

Freezing, save for a startled blink, Noah almost made to back out of the door.

Then the facial recog set in, and the scan’s positive result let him relax.

Tina Chen. That is, Officer Tina Chen. Also known as practically the only other person at Central Station who routinely used Gavin’s first name to his face without a drop of sarcasm.

Exempting those times when it was deserved. Which were many, admittedly.

On the other hand, Noah couldn’t remember if he had ever rated a formal introduction with the woman. He knew the roster of personnel working with the 7th Precinct as well as every feather quill he sported. But most of those names, he only appreciated in passing.

Chen was one of them.

“Ah… ahem.” Rapping his knuckles on the door, he straightened up. “Officer Chen?”

She gave a tiny start, eyes flashing up toward him, before she visibly relaxed. She pulled the cellphone away from her ear for a second to say something to him, before returning it. “Hey, Noah. …Yeah, he's here, your apartment. Get back here, we'll search together.” Giving one last nod of her head, she pulled it away again, before pocketing the device in her jacket.

“I'll say it, just in case Gavin won't - thanks for coming. If you didn't, I'm not sure he would be even holding it together as loosely as he already is. Goddamn cat…”

With one ear trained on the stairwell, Noah let his gaze rove around the living room. At first brush, it seemed quaint enough, with a couch facing a TV, a set of bookshelves bearing discs and paper binders, respectively. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration - no framed photos or decor on the coffee table or decorative blinds for the windows.

Not many places for a feline to hide, save the closet, bathroom, kitchenette corner, and bedroom.

For the moment, Noah didn’t dare step over the threshold. He would wait for Gavin’s go-ahead to do so.

“Then I’ll say he’s welcome, on said behalf. How long have you been here?”

“Not too long, half an hour, something like that. Soon as I took a once over around, saw Colby wasn't here, he decided we had to call you.” Tina sighed, shaking her head at the borderline-absurd situation that they found themselves in. “He wanted to go outside, for some reason, thinks Colby got out that way. I'm sure he didn't, he's in the building somewhere.”

The slush in the tray said different.

Noah glanced sideways down the hallway, then turned his head to fully appreciate just how empty it was. “This kind of weather, people should be remaining indoors. Could Colby have gone up to the roof, the courtyard?”

“He could have,” Tina admitted, crossing her arms as she thought on it. “But I'm guessing he's probably somewhere in the building. It's Colby… he's not going outside if it's too cold for his tastes.”

With that, the sound of someone hurriedly climbing the stairs began to sound off, seemingly trying to make their way up them as quickly as they possibly could.

Another pass coming up empty, in other words. Gavin lived on the tenth floor of this given complex. Most of the levels above and below were rented out in the long term. Perhaps Colby has wandered off, bribed by a neighbor wielding cat treats?

“Hello, Detective.” Nominal as ever with his greetings, Noah tried not to let the sight of a disheveled, near-panicked looking Reed outwardly surprise him. “Any luck?”

“Nope.” Gavin strode by him with no other words, hands at his sides in fists as his eyes combed whatever he could see of his apartment again. “I can't find him anywhere, he has to be outside. I'm goin’ out to look for him.”

Again.

Taking a second look, Noah couldn’t quite help a nit picky suggestion. So long as he was tarrying in the doorstep, without being invited in, it was all he could do. “No gloves or hat? Detective, you’ll be putting yourself at risk for frostbite.”

“Fuck it, I'll be fine. Don't worry.” Taking a glance back at him, Gavin rolled his eyes, before impatiently ushering him inside. “You can come inside, Noah, I didn't ask you to come just to make you stand by the door. Or, come help me look for him.”

Pending further instruction, that was how androids worked. They waited for instructions in times of uncertainty. And with Gavin so uncertain where his pet had gone or how to go about finding him, what could Noah logically anticipate?

Properly directed, he took another glance about and stepped inside. “My recommendation still stands. If Colby is anywhere outside, you shouldn’t expose yourself to personal injury, trying to find him.”

Reed’s previously-given order - to punch him in times of self-destructive decision-making - didn’t feel applicable just yet.

“I'll take it into - consideration,” Gavin said sarcastically, hands releasing from the fists, revealing a slight tremor that had developed, most likely a result of twanged nerves and mounting distress. “Now, you comin’ with me, or you stayin’ with Tina?”

Sparing the off-duty policewoman a studious look, Noah took only casual note of how appropriately she was dressed for the cold. Even with a fashionable scarf woven around her neck, she had prepared on short notice. And he knew from a glance at personnel data she lived some six blocks away.

“Officer Chen, if he won’t listen to me, perhaps you can be more convincing?”

They had worked together far longer than the four months the RK900 had been online. There was something far more tangible to said relationship.

Gavin had called her first, after all.

“Gavin. Stop being an idiot, more than you usually are. Unless you want to lose some fingers, looking for Colby.” Tina raised an eyebrow at him, even as he was seemingly trying to ignore her, in favor of getting ready to go outside. “Okay, how about this? I'll go look on the floors above. You go check out the bottom floors, with Noah.”

“I already did that,” he grumbled, but slowed to listen to what she was saying. “It ain't gonna change.”

“Yeah, but - look, you have to admit that you probably missed something, way you are right now.” Gesturing over to Noah, she smiled at him, albeit a small one. “Noah can at least let you know whether you really did see it all or not.”

That was certainly true. Superior senses of detection aside, Noah wasn’t given to the same panic his partner was clearly experiencing.

“How many floors down have you checked, Detective? There can’t be that many open doors he may have slipped through.”

In all honesty, the missing cat was only giving them a runaround because it was in his capacity to do so. Gavin had already explained how demanding said feline could be. This may just prove a classic example of how felines trained their ‘masters’, as opposed to the other way around.

“Uh… like, half of them. Then I just sorta - came back up here.” He mumbled, finally coming to a stop, bouncing on his heels with nervous energy. “Didn't see shit, though.”

Did he give himself time enough to look?

Unlikely. This same man who worked homicide in the DPD, dealing with the likes of drug dealers, gangbangers, and the all-too-occasional unsolved murder, seemed too distraught with the idea his only companion outside of work had gone missing.

Was Chen feeling the same levels of affectionate exasperation Noah was?

“How about we start at the beginning? When did you first notice Colby was gone?”

“Like, an hour ago, because I couldn't hear him fuckin’ wailing to eat somethin’ other than his food, so I got worried. And then he wasn't anywhere inside here, so I looked in the hallway…” Gavin trailed off with a shrug, trying to hide a tiny sniff of more despair. “Then he wasn't anywhere else I looked on this level, so I called Tina, and then you.”

Something other than his food.

“So he’s a mouser? Does your apartment have a rodent problem?” Temperatures these extreme, even mice would be driven to move if their nests weren’t properly insulated.

“The whole fuckin’ building does, when temperatures get like this. Every now and then he finds one and kills it, but that's in my apartment.”

And this time, it would seem he was dining out.

Noah almost smiled, but settled instead for nodding back at the open door. “Ground floor it is, then. We’ll see how far he had to go for a second course.”

——-

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that with half as much glibness. Because karma soon circled back around and knocked the wind out of that sail called smugness.

“Detective, no! It’s a - _misunderstanding_ , is all.”

Gavin tried to wretch himself loose from Noah's grasp, flailing to get closer to Joey. “No, it ain't! He fuckin’ tried to steal my cat, you bastard! Let me go!”

“Gavin!” Tina quickly grabbed at his other arm, helping Noah keep him back from the open door they found themselves in front of. “Stop it, now! You're being - ridiculous!”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Either way, the short haired cat in question was slinking around their ankles, meowing and pawing for attention. Or just generally adding his voice to the melee because, why not? It was what everyone else was doing.

The accused, one Joseph ‘Zalewski’, seemed torn between answering to the charges and using his front door as a shield. “Honestly, man, I didn’t know! I just heard scratching, I answered, and he came darting in here.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you! Like I'm supposed to believe that shit? Let me _go!_ ” Gavin pitched them all forward again, closer to the door, as if he was ready to beat Joey into a pulp. Which, by all statistical probabilities, he very much wanted to do. “You didn't fuckin’ hear me looking for him?”

“ _Detective_ , honestly.” Holding on to one arm with both hands, Noah braced a foot and abruptly pulled back, just as Tina took the unspoken cue to do the same on her side. “Compose yourself. Colby’s here, and no worse for wear. There’s no call to make such a spectacle of yourself.”

Gripping the doorknob, eyes wide, Joey - a wingless, decommissioned courier android once employed at Overclocked - looked torn between laughing and scoffing. “Right? I mean, c’mon, I was gonna say something. But only once you’d calmed down enough. Your service weapon is back on level ten, I hope?”

Yes, the one with the trigger that fired nine millimeter rounds.

But Gavin’s mouth was nowhere the rest of him wasn’t.

Gavin forced himself to stop jerking around in the two grips that held him, opting to instead turn his glare to each of them in turn, ending with Joey. “Fuck, fantastic. Glad to know I can count on any of you. Let me go, I'm goin’ back with Colby.”

With the worst of the storm over as fast as it had blown in, the cat perked up again at the mention of his name. Threading his way past Tina’s calf, he put both front paws down atop his owner’s shoe. Purchase secure, he bunted his forehead against the same pant leg, purring and arching and wiping his chin against the dark fabric.

Also known as marking a human as their own. Domestic felines had a penchant for that.

At that Joey did give a weak laugh. “What, no questions over what I’m even doing here?”

“Nope. I'm not really in the mood to get pissed off with you today.” Gavin said it with as little emotion as he could, finally yanking one arm out of Tina's grip, glaring back up at Noah to let him go. “Seriously. Let me go, I'm not gonna do shit to him.”

Orders given, Noah let go. He was a trifle busy with computing why ‘Zalewski’ was here at all. He may have been given a new surname and stripped of all the exterior indicators that pegged him as an android. But he wasn’t supposed to just up and relocate without prior approval.

Bending down with a sigh, Gavin pet Colby for a moment, soothing the animal as much as himself. The cat rubbed and nipped at the offered hand. “You asshole. Runnin’ around the whole building. Let's get out of here.” Seemingly still upset from the encounter with Joey, he merely gave the displaced ex-courier one last glare before turning away, arms folded, head down.

“That’s one poor housewarming reception, Reed, I gotta say.”

Still a little befuddled, Noah blinked at the deviant’s brazen words. “Considering you have apparently moved without prior approval, pretending this didn’t happen is the best thing Detective Reed can do for you.”

“What? Meaning, you guys don’t wanna catch a movie or something? Tone things down?” Putting on slightly-softer eyes for effect, Joey opened the door. “Come on. Who says we can’t just be social about this?”

“I do. Fuck you, Zalewski, I don't care what happened.” Taking a glance around, at both Tina and Noah, Gavin let out a groan. Colby echoed it with a short yowl. “No. No, I am _not_ doin’ that, not after this.”

After making an arguable fool out of himself, racing up and down several flights, fretting about a lost cat who was never actually in any danger?

Squinting, Noah called that out for what it was: “Detective, if anyone has the right to be aggravated here, it’s Officer Chen and myself. We’re the ones who went out of our way to assist you.”

Perhaps it was uncalled for in an android of his station. But for better or worse, he was Reed’s partner. That job involved telling him things he didn’t necessarily want to hear. Such as when he was being a stuck up brat of a man in refusing to accept an olive branch.

“ _Fine,_ I won't ask you for help next time, then,” he hissed, but didn't make any moves to leave with Colby. “Go play with Joey if you want. I don't care.”

If he didn’t care, and meant it, why was he still here? Arguing at all?

It was like Connor and his low key anger issues. Admitting them came with a built-in measure of commitment, either way. If Gavin didn’t care, he would be on level five by now. Even if it was only embarrassment stoking the fires, he didn’t have to keep feeding it.

To that end, Joey said what Noah wouldn’t.

“Some partner you got there, Bright Eyes. To put up with the likes of that ungratefulness, day in and day out, gotta be made of tougher stuff than me.”

Such pinballing all over the place. One minute the deviant was fearful, the next amused, then magnanimous, then borderline belligerent. It made Noah’s processor spin to keep pace.

As a result, he wasn’t picking the most optimal responses. But at least his partner was more consistent in his given selection of mood, however unsavory.

“I'm not ungrateful!” Gavin whirled back around, glaring at Joey once again, before switching his gaze to Noah. “I'm _not._ It's - fuck it. I don't care.”

Without saying anything else, Gavin reached down and scooped Colby up with little protest from the cat, hurrying away back toward the stairwell.

Tina Chen went after him. Joey Zalewski closed the door.

Left alone in the hallway with no further instructions beyond those suggested by his addled mind, Noah stood there.

Well, they had found Colby.

Was that a positive outcome, or a negative?

A one, or a zero?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another mini-blowout later...

“Is this your idea of an apology?”

If he was being honest, no, it wasn’t. This was per Lieutenant Anderson’s suggestion. And his dime, for that matter. Noah wasn’t entirely clear on the particulars. In a roundabout way, what he had told Connor got around to the RK800’s supervisor. And said supervisor then took it upon himself to order more than one round of bagels.

One of the plain paper bags, Hank unceremoniously shoved against Noah’s chest. “From you. Go give it to him.”

By the tone of the man’s voice, it was definitely not a moot suggestion.

Unfortunately, Noah didn’t get away with just leaving it on the break room table next to Gavin’s elbow.

“I know you didn’t have money to pay for that. Who’s it from?”

Wings tight against his back, Noah managed to keep his expression schooled into something neutral. “De… Detective Collins.”

“Oh, you're fuckin’ lying.” Hunched over the table, surly as ever, Gavin looked up at him with narrowed eyes, one hand wandering toward the bagel even as they spoke. “You can't lie to _me,_ of all people, Noah. Who's it from?”

No. He couldn’t not answer. He couldn’t lie, being so unpracticed at it. Telling the truth was going to hurt, one way or another. The only variable was for how long would they have to endure the outrage.

“Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Fuck, of course it was. This his version of some kind of - laugh at me?” Gavin's hands balled up into fists, as he assumed the worst - like last time. “I don't want it.”

‘Last time’ was barely a day ago. The temperature outside had climbed back up to a tolerable 23°. But per unspoken instructions, Noah had returned to Central, anticipating Gavin’s next work shift with equal parts bemusement and green anxiety.

When Connor asked what was wrong, and looked strangely sympathetic in doing so, Noah hadn’t been able to think of a good reason to deny telling him. As a result, here they were.

Was it too soon to talk of the blowup over Colby?

“No, it’s… my fault for saying anything, to anyone, Detective. But after yesterday… I’m still a little confused.”

“About what?” Gavin said, freezing slightly at the unspoken mention of just what he had done. His face fell a bit, as if he were expecting other bad news.

Fingers twitching, before he made a conscious thought to stop fidgeting, Noah glanced away. “What I did wrong. I still can’t seem to pinpoint the moment.”

Maybe it was unfair to shoulder the burden that wasn’t his fault to begin with. But right now it was what his standoffish partner needed to hear. That it wasn’t just his misanthropic streak showing through.

Letting the question hang, the android looked back and waited on an answer.

“You… you didn't do anything.” Gavin finally sighed, looking away from him as he clearly struggled with what he was going to say to Noah. Meanwhile, the bagel in the bag was only getting colder. “Fuck, man. You didn't do shit, okay? You're fine. Drop it.”

He might be fine, as in the singular sense, but as far as they and their working relationship went, this couldn’t just sit there, unaddressed. Or else it would just lurk at the back of their thoughts, showing it’s ugly face at the worst possible moments. Neither could afford to let that happen.

“Very well. …Was there anything you wanted to talk about?”

“Nope.” Gavin leaned back in his seat, looking back over at Noah, his expression still somewhat closed off and drawn. “What? You wanna talk about somethin’?”

“The only… pressing subject I had was just ruled out as irrelevant, Detective. If you’re so certain, I’m to defer to your judgment. You have more experience in matters of… social misconstructions.”

“If you have somethin’ else to say, say it. I don't think you did anything wrong, but if there's anything else you wanna say… fuck, dude, why can't you just say what you're thinking of me?”

A paradox, that was why. If he admitted to these new doubts swirling around, what it had led to, what was the worst that could happen? Reassignment? Minor suspension? Citation for overlooking the matter of a deviant who relocated without prior authorization?

Just like admitting the bagel was Hank’s idea. This might hurt, but at least they could potentially get over it.

“I don’t mean to be difficult, it was just… your behavior yesterday, it caught me off guard.”

All Joey had done was try and spontaneously invite them in for a movie.

What was wrong with that?

“Yeah? Get used to it. I told you I'm not a fuckin’ good friend, so if you wanna act surprised now, go ahead. But I warned you.” At that, Gavin raised an eyebrow at him, expression almost turning into a glare.

Sure, he had been warned. But what specifically to watch out for, the man had failed to mention. There were boundaries to respect, obviously, and maybe another human could glance at Reed and see immediately what they were.

Noah didn’t know if he wasn’t told.

Expression hardening, Noah straightened up, wings half flared. The affronted change in posture wouldn’t go unnoticed. “You could have been more specific.”

“It's part of the bad friend thing, helps drive them away sooner.” Gavin smirked at him, but managed to just look more upset than truly amused. One hand curled over the bagel, still in its bag. “Now, go away. I think we've established what I am enough for one meeting.”

He could do that - simply trundle away like a good little android, grab up a case file, and start theorizing. It was his job. And it was supposed to take priority over whatever working dynamic he had with his given partner.

But why did they have to part on belligerent terms? That couldn’t be an ideal arrangement for the rest of their shift. It wasn’t harmonious for them, much less anyone else concerned enough to try and work with them.

Decidedly non-optimal, in other words.

“Go away and, what? Wait? I could actually do more to help if you were that much more _elaborate_ , Detective Reed.”

As opposed to being the simple, brazen, foul-mouthed malcontent the rest of the station saw him as. Noah didn’t like to think it was true. No one was ever so one-sided, human or android.

And it didn’t feel particularly good to have that unspoken vote of confidence stomped all over.

Giving a pause, Gavin sat there for a moment, before he sharply picked the peace-offering bagel up and threw it back at him, before crossing his arms. “ _There_ , go feed the pigeons, if you need me to fuckin’ tell you what to do that goddamn badly. I'm sure they'll be much better company than me.”

Silly as it sounded, it might just prove more bearable.

Reacting on automatic, Noah caught the bag in the crook of his arm. There was no point in arguing any further when those metaphorical walls were up. Each peek over the top today had only been met with more and more aggression.

Lieutenant Anderson’s idea had proved to be a nice, fruitless zero.

“As you wish, Detective.”

Mission failed, he left the break room without a backwards look.

——-

Gavin was right.

Wintertime meant food was scarce. The pigeons congregating outside past the landing ledge doors were entirely more appreciative.

Better yet, they couldn’t say anything if they didn’t care for raisin wheat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I speak agro.

The bagels were a one-off tactic. While it was considerate of Lieutenant Anderson to offer, Gavin had pointed out the obvious giveaway in seconds. Androids weren’t paid. There was no way even an RK900 could acquire one without it being given, or - at worst - stolen. And Noah wasn’t about to go raiding the nearest snack vendor in a misguided attempt to somehow patch this roughened bit of road.

Somehow, he got the feeling breaking the law was not how best to appeal to his colleagues.

Gavin Reed was difficult on a good day. But when sulkiness still permeated every little exchange of theirs for the next seventy-two hours, and counting, he could border on outright miserable. His work ethic diminished to virtual nonexistence. Only those with the most pressing of needs dates to get close, and if they did, they were usually sent off with a creative explicative for their trouble.

The moment Tina Chen zeroed in on Noah, elbow-deep in files as he was, actually managed to catch the android by surprise.

(She was at least a few inches shorter than Detective Reed, with a much lighter step. The stealthy approach was probably unintentional.)

“Hey, _Noah. …_ Listen, I know we haven't talked much, but I've reached the point of if Gavin is being as childish again today, I might just throttle him.” Raising an eyebrow at him, Tina stepped another pace forward, one finger pointing at him. “I know it's not your fault, but you're the one who can make this better, not me. So, what are you gonna do?”

Well. At least she wasn’t being vague about her motivations.

Temporarily suspending the digitized document, projected across his eyes well enough without the help of a tablet, the RK900 paused to consider his best options at returning the question.

There were no good ones, exactly.

“I hadn’t considered. ...You are aware my chances of doing that successfully are significantly low?” Glancing past her, ascertaining their empty hallway was just that, _empty_ , he scoffed. No sense in rattling off a few numbers for show. He knew it wouldn’t impress. “He won’t discuss the matter, and any attempts I make to bring it back up are only being stonewalled.”

“Of course that happens, because it's Gavin.” Throwing her hands up with exasperation, Tina shook her head. “The thing is, you just gotta keep pushing past that shit he pulls. He's bein’ a brat because no one is stopping him. He'll listen, if you don't back down when he starts his bullshit.”

Noah held back an urge to scoff again. Of course this duty would fall to him, if Tina’s patience was at an end. It all fell under the ‘bad friend’ purview alluded to a few days back.

But did he really have better odds than her at making it happen?

“You know that sort of suggestion goes against my programming, Officer.”

“Okay… and? Listen, I know you can go against your programming every now and then. Don’t argue. I've been around enough androids to know even you prototypes can do it.” Deflecting his unvoiced counterpoint with a shrug, Tina moved on as smoothly as she could. “You either talk to him, or not. All I'm saying is, if you don't make him listen to you, he won't.”

And if he didn’t, who knew to what extent Gavin would keep this unsavory demeanor going? His work ethic already suffered enough. It was, effectively, on him to check the bad attitude, and as yet, he hadn’t done it. Convincing him to put the mood back in neutral would be a challenge.

The command may as well have been phrased intervention.exe.

Run it and see what happens.

“I understand.”

Were he more savvy to the concept at the time, Noah might have asked Tina to wish him luck.

——-

The parking garage adjacent to Central Station was no lavish, five story structure. Besides the motorpool ground floor, those spaces on the second level were reserved for personal vehicles. And naturally, given Central employed some four-hundred regular personnel, those were specially allocated affairs. One was home to Captain Fowler’s demure Cadillac, another the resting place of Lieutenant Anderson’s sticker-covered Buick. Side by side, they stood out amidst all the sleeker, modern models.

Standing out like a fire hydrant against an edifice of gray stone, Detective Reed’s cherry-red Camaro was both noticeable and an unintended eyesore.

At a glance, Noah knew it belonged to the man, after correlating it’s VIN number against the closest DMV database. As an afterthought, walking closer, he recognized the silhouette of who was wiping dirt out of its rear driver’s side wheel well.

“Detective. Are you busy?”

“Yep.” With his one word answer presumably sufficient, Gavin didn't even bother to look up at him, and only continued scrubbing. He made no moves to get up, or stop the (unorthodox) cleaning of his car. “What, you need somethin’?”

Hands loose at his sides, Noah hid them behind his back. Technically no, he didn’t need anything. But he had already gone through the trouble of walking here. And there wouldn’t be a better, more secluded place to converse back in the bullpen.

(Unless one counted the space directly beneath Reed’s desk. But that would look beyond silly.)

“I… wondered if we could talk, candidly, out of the office for a moment.”

“Pfft. Yeah, _sure._ Talk, then.” Finally deeming him worthy of a disgruntled look, Gavin turned back to glare at him, one hand going up to comb through his hair while he waited, cleaning momentarily paused.

How momentarily was anyone’s guess. And meanwhile, the surly policeman was looking as unapproachable as ever.

Right. So no surprise there.

With a brief eyeroll to indicate just what he thought of such an abrasive response, Noah almost scoffed back. “Meaning, if you could please dispense with the attitude, we might finally put the matter to rest and get on with our lives.”

Gavin was unimpressed with the wordage. “Oh, yeah? That's what the fuck you want?” His concentration broke again with a scoff, going back to his car afterwards. “Listen, if you're gonna talk, how about you dispense with the fuckin’ beating around the bush, just say what you're gonna say?”

Very well.

He could be more direct.

“I repeat: could you _please_ stop being such a dick first?”

“Ooh, usin’ big boy words now, huh?” Sneering back at him, Gavin rose to a crouch, continuing to glare at him from the new, bent position. “Nah, I don't think so. Now, use your real words if you're gonna, okay? I can't just fuckin’ tell what you want from body posture.”

Noah scowled, wings giving an irate twitch. This was half mockery, half criticism - just the kind they had suffered weeks of in the early stages of a forced partnership. Tina was right. He would have to get aggressive to make an impression.

“I’ve said it twice now, Detective. I want to know what your - _problem_ is.”

“I don't _have_ a problem, I think I've said that fuckin’ twice as well.” Standing up in full, Gavin half leaned against his car, eyebrows raised with exaggerated confusion and anger. “Is that all? I've got some other shit to do than run in circles with you all day.”

_And no convenient side errand to send you on. That’s a lie. He’s already looking for an out._

At that, Noah did scoff. “No, you don’t.”

“Okay, maybe I don't, but I sure as shit would rather just be fuckin’ cleaning my car, unbothered.” Pointing at said Camaro for emphasis, Gavin attempted to turn his back on Noah with a final wave. “Okay, seriously, dude, just go. Now.”

A glimmer of red, conflicting error windows phased in at the edges of his vision. Blinking them aside, Noah smirked. Now that his partner was turned away, he could risk it.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not until we reach an understanding.”

“Uh - _excuse me?_ The fuck did you just say?” Turning back around as fast he could in the space he had, Gavin gaped at him for a moment, before it turned into a glare. “Nah, we ain't playin’ this game right now. I don't give a shit whether it's fuckin’ programming or not, just because you can go against it doesn't mean you should. I still got the fuckin’ years on you, so listen to what I'm telling you and go away.”

Pulling the seniority card, how original, and irrelevant.

Fully aware of how unnerving it must have seemed, complete with an ominously-yellow LED, Noah took a few, very intentional steps closer.

Tina’s order to find a solution took precedent here. Even if Reed was his assigned handler, in instances of questionable reason, there was always metaphorical wiggle room. There were also no timely alternatives for the man to order him to defer to.

“Why? Am I… scaring you, Detective?”

It was as admittedly spooky to defy as it was for anyone used to him abiding by their every word watch the android directly contradict. But it was like Chen said, all androids had the means. They simply didn’t always have reason to rebel.

“The fuck? No!” Crossing his arms with his own defiance, Gavin stared up at him, not taking any steps of his own. The car at his back eliminated any escape in that direction. “No, I just - don't feel like playin’ fucking games with you right now, you hear me? I ain't in the mood, so stop this shit, now.”

_He isn’t in the mood for anything that doesn’t equal more sulking around. Time for a wake up call._

Wings unfurling with a loose _snap,_ Noah stepped forward again - right up to arm’s length - before using both feathered appendages to ‘cage’ Reed in from either side. Boxed against the car, the parking garage suddenly must have seemed altogether smaller.

“How else am I supposed to get your attention?”

Gavin kept his shock on a tight leash. Eyes widening, his gaze darted from wing to wing, before going back to his face with some delayed realization of just what he was going. “Haha, asshole. Think you're clever? Let me fuckin’ go, you can't keep me here.”

Without a pause, Noah grabbed a fistful of the green shirt, firmly pushing Gavin back against the door. He stopped to think about it the millisecond after he did.

_Can’t keep you here?_

“Now I can.”

“The fuck?” Gavin started to struggle immediately, bucking against the fist that was holding him in place. Even if it was in vain, it didn't stop him from trying, or even giving up. “Seriously, Noah? What the _fuck_ has gotten into your stupid brain? I told you to talk, you didn't fuckin’ talk! That ain't my fault!”

Admittedly, yes, there were more than a few random bits of code spinning through his processors at the moment. Pressed to answer, Noah went for the first and only reply that made sense. How irrational, and stupid to that end, his behavior had abruptly become could always be assessed later.

“I spoke, Detective. _You_ didn’t listen.”

“Urgh… well, you know what? I ain't gonna fuckin’ argue with the man who's got me pinned.” Still glaring at him, Gavin at least gave the struggle up, raising his eyebrows by way of surrender. “Fine. I'm listenin’ now, aren't I?”

“Are you?” Noah retorted, fingers still curled knuckle-deep into the dark green fabric. “Then I’m only going to repeat myself this one final time: lose - the - attitude. There’s been no call for you to perpetually drag yourself to work in such a mood, for _days_ on end.”

“Yeah? …Fine.” Begrudgingly, Gavin shrugged, looking down as he did so. Some latent embarrassment must have manifested from the way his face flushed at Noah's words. “I ain't in a mood. Not anymore, okay? Fuck, you wouldn't get it.”

That was rather underwhelmingly easy. For all the bluster he had put up, one little collar-grab was enough to do the trick?

Raising an eyebrow, Noah thought twice of letting go so quick. “What wouldn’t I ‘get’?”

“Fuckin’... Joey. Y’know. His dumbass suggestion to watch a goddamn movie.” Shifting as much as he could, with Noah still holding him partially still, Gavin glared at the pavement with as much anger as he could seemingly muster. “Listen, I get that it seemed like a fun and nice fuckin’ offer, but that's how they get you, okay? They don't care. _He_ doesn't care.”

Well, it was admittedly odd. Not only had the ex-courier relocated without permission, but to accidentally ‘steal’ a neighbor’s pet and then try to invite that same person in, claiming it was a misunderstanding -

Noah couldn’t help another scoff, practiced at the noise as he was becoming. “What? You don’t think it might have been genuine?”

“Nope. Why would he be? They never are. Doesn't matter who or _what_ they are, either, Noah, okay? They just want to get rid of you without feelin’ too bad, so they'll be friendly for a bit, enough to put you off on someone else, and then bail. I know how that works.”

“But - with regard to _that_ particular android, why would you think Joseph would go through the trouble?” Shaking his head, recognizing the reasoning as flawed, Noah let go and stood back, wings folding up in one clean motion. “You know if he were pressed, he probably finds Connor more dislikable than you.”

“Dude! It doesn't matter who he is, okay?” Gavin hissed at him, angrily swiping at his shirt to try and get whatever wrinkles may have been formed from it being grabbed. “I just barely said, that's how it is with everyone, not just some people. And it's Joey - he probably just felt a bit fuckin’ bad about the whole Colby thing. Do we have to keep talkin’ about this? I said I'd stop.”

“Then I won’t ask any more of it. I can see you’re unsettled enough.” Giving his fair share of ground, as compromises worked best that way, Noah put his pondering in neutral. “I didn’t want to have to get so… drastic, in getting your attention, but - it’s not what you think, Detective. People can be kind _and_ mean it. There isn’t always an ulterior motive.”

“Yeah, sure there isn't.” Gavin muttered, crossing his arms as he did so, still clearly unswayed by the new line of reasoning. “Whatever, it doesn't matter anymore.”

To him, the matter had been effectively swept under the carpet - where it belonged.

“Well… on the other hand, he’s still residing in the same apartment complex, not the one he was originally relocated to. Shouldn’t we be notifying the court of the witness protection violation?”

It would be a surefire way to get the former courier out of Reed’s metaphorical hair.

“Fuck no, okay? We ain't snitchin’ on him, it's - urgh, it's whatever, I just really fuckin’ hate people tryin’ to use friendliness for themselves.”

In all fairness, who wouldn’t?

Maybe Detective Reed was forgetting just who, or what, he was speaking to. Androids typically didn’t enjoy friendships beyond what was mandated by their given jobs. Joey and the Overclocked couriers were all exceptions to said trend. They knew what it was to be friendly just to be friends, no strings attached.

Was that what Gavin found so upsetting, possibly having the carpet yanked out from under his feet? Androids likely weren’t the ones who instilled him with such a jaded mindset.

“So… no movies at his place, in other words?”

“No, nope. That ain't happenin’.” Gavin shook his head, shooting Noah what could be classified as a warning look, more arch than what the usual variety consisted of. “We ain't doin’ that, never.”

Pushing the envelope just one last time, Noah smirked - ever so slightly. It seemed like a just reward for accomplishing what Officer Chen had asked of him. The rest of the station would be better off for it.

“...Ever?”

(The only loose thread was Joey.)


End file.
